Only Way
by Ryoushi05
Summary: Nothing like being in a go nowhere relationship. Until you finally realize it. Song fic with Filter's The Wrong Way. Heero, Duo, Trowa. AngstFEST.


Title: The Only Way

Author: Ryoushi

Category: POV, Angst, Lime, and Songfic 1 + 2, 1 X ?

Rating: R

Warnings: Lots of Angst, Language, and strong yaoi.

Spoilers: If you watched the series, you're safe

Notes: This story idea just popped into my head while driving home listening to Filter's _The Only Way (is the Wrong Way)._ It took me a while to really get the perspective I wanted to write on, and I would love to hear feedback as to if anyone likes my version of Heero.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing boys, but I wish I did.

_Did you think that I'd disappear? _

_Did you think that I'd wash away? _

_Did you think that I'd last this long?_

_Did you think that I'd get this strong?_

I don't know how I got here. That's not true, I walked out of the house and kept walking for seven miles until I got to this park, then I stopped walking and sat down. It's raining, but I don't really care much. I wish it could wash away the past, wash away all the pain I seem to make. I am sitting in this little gazebo made of concrete, on this concrete picnic bench, and I watch the drops of water roll down my jacket and pool together on the sandstone floor. I wish I could be that water, so insignificant, no one would care then. I was so much happier when no one cared, but back then neither did I.

Guess this is what happens when people make you care. It might just be me; maybe I can not be like others. I know I am not normal, but all the aspects that have made me different usually helped me in the past. The intolerance to physical pain, the computer skills, my eyes… back in the war everything about me led to almost any mission being a complete success. Now, without missions, this life has become so difficult. Everything about me puts me at odds and ends. I changed to get rid of the awkwardness, but I was happy as the perfect solider.

No one seems to think that is possible. Everyone thinks I am lonely or that I hide my feelings. The truth is I never hid them. If I liked someone, I made sure I would get to see him or her every day. If I did not, I would make sure I would never see them again. It's simple, but I have found that simple living leads to its own bliss. Everyone else thinks that because I don't laugh and jump up and down that must mean I have no soul. There's a soul, but like I said it's different than most. So I changed everything to get normal living down pact. I guess normal living was caring about what others thought.

_Every time they try to make me change._

_They just wear me down with more chains._

It was the silence that bugged most people. They would use it as proof of my 'hidden' feelings; they were only hidden to their inane eyes. They always thought that the silence meant anger, or that I was deep in thought and didn't want to be disturbed. I wonder if it ever occurred to them, I just had nothing to say. Oh, yes the thoughts and the viciously sarcastic responses where always flying about my brain, but why say them? Are conversations so needy as to plea for comments that really say nothing? That is why I think Duo did see conversations as true communication, it allows him to express what he holds back, at least with me it did. He never knew I only saw them as entertainment.

Duo himself was never only entertainment. He was what I aspired to be after the war. I do not know why, he seemed freer at the time. I should have seen it then with this mind of mine, he's no freer than a lion in a zoo. Oh, they put him in those artificial habitats so that he looks free, but at the end of the day after all the people have stopped gazing and pointing, he is alone and scared in the confines of his mind. Everyone I knew after the war talked about how they had such a hard time adjusting, if I had been normal I guess I would have too. I thought life was just less stressful. That's it. So seeing everyone I liked suffer from not fitting in, I naturally tried to emulate the one whom, at the time, seemed the sanest.

We only used each other to drown out the fear. The using was fun though. Shouldn't the fun and the happy times absolve the pain and push the fear out of us? Did I even feel fear or was it just a lack of feeling everyone says I have? The fun never made Duo's fear go away; it only made Duo ignore it. I was like a drug to him. I ruined his life because I let him use me instead of letting him be with someone who could fix him. I took him away from Hilde selfishly, and for what? So he could sleep sated every night instead of passing out from the beer.

_Did you think that I'd could be your crutch? _

_Did you think that life could mean so much?_

The careless American never even thought our relationship was odd. He never thought it was weird that we never went on dates, that all we did was screw each other for hours until neither one of us could walk or even think. Duo never once asked to celebrate Valentines, Christmas, or our anniversary. I made him into an addict. I enjoyed every minute of it to. The simplicity of 'Us' was its own sated bliss. I never had to promise anything; my little demonic blue eyes only needed to look at him with desire and compassion… never… love.

That only lasted for so long. The addict became strung out. I still remember that afternoon when I came home from work. The way Duo laid crumpled in the freezing cold shower; the way I 'rescued' him to make him warm up; the way he just laid their with his eyes looking out the window the entire time; the way afterwards he asked me if I could ever love him. I made love to the addict that day, the zombie of a shell I created. Something so simple turned into something so complex when I finally saw his pain.

Pain makes a person change. Other things like bliss and despair influence you, but it is sheer pain that makes the body move and the soul change. I don't feel pain like Quatre or Wufei. I feel the reactions of pain. I either feel happy when the leg is splinted or guilty when I watch my best friend look at me with the sadness that influenced the sanity I once thought beautiful. I pushed him to a breaking point with my stupid love for simplicity in a world that demands complexity. That guilt made me try to obtain being normal, that was the reaction of Duo's pain… the straw that broke this camel's back. The aftershock of hearing him ask about love made me make myself emulate every normal aspect I despised.

Love makes you do the wacky. Before I knew about Duo's feelings, I don't think I would have ever changed the relationship. I think every day I would come home and fuck him until we came session after session. Knowing I was hurting Duo, I had to change. Like I said, the people I like I keep in my life; changing myself is the only weapon I had to ensnare Duo into staying.

It worked too. I started talking more and bringing home cute little gifts and Duo promised himself to stay. I don't understand why I had to be inane to make him stay. Now, its because I realize how insane he is. He wears this mask and feels pain in his darkness, and he only lets himself into those shadows. I have to change to make him stay; he never once let me see his pain. I don't think I would like to see it, but never the less what was he loosing in this compromising relationship? Days turned into weeks which phased into months and the perfect solider lost his 'wall.' Not the wall of his emotions, but the wall of his sanity.

Everyone thought I had made such progress. Relena was even hitting on me at Quatre's winter ball. I guess that as long as I am 'normal' everyone wants a piece. At first I didn't mind the charade, because it kept Duo in my life. The voice that always entertained me with its vicious sarcasm began to poke and prod at me for the first time since after the far and few failed missions I had. It asked if Duo loved me for all the wrong reasons, but more importantly it asked why did I feel like I need Duo in my life if he was just a good fuck? Was it really the friendly compassion and entertaining mannerisms I liked and needed, or was it the sex? What drove me to feel guilt for not loving Duo in return? What was I looking for every time I buried myself to the hilt inside of him?

_And it feels like  
that your with me or against me  
and it feels like  
that your promises are all mine  
and it feels like  
that to push me is to shove me  
and it feels like  
that the only way is the wrong way_

The puzzle piece is what I began to call it. It was something I was missing. I was happy with my simplistic life, and I tried to convert sated feelings into bliss. I hadn't achieved Utopia, that place where love or happiness or whatever motivates your every thought, whim, and feeling. I began puzzling why Duo couldn't satisfy that pit in me. That is when I came to the conclusion that we were merely using each other. That was this morning.

I woke up next to him, like I have every morning for the last four years. His auburn hair lay in tresses decorating our bed and our pillows. His eyes slowly fluttered open, when he realized I was watching him sleep again. It was rather sad, the pit in my stomach knew this would be the last time I could ever see this. I memorized the way his lithe pale body looked gray from the cloudy light that penetrated our room no matter how thick Duo sewed the curtains. I watched him stretch out and mewl a grumpy groan when he realized it was morning. His every move enticed me more than it ever had, because I knew it would be the last time I could have him to myself. That evil grin of his appeared as he snaked an arm around me and rolled onto my chest to use me as his pillow. That's when I made the using stop, all of it.

I shoved him off of me and got out of bed. I started getting dressed, and he began questioning why I was in such a bad mood. The little baka didn't even recognize this is the perfect solider that I liked being, which disappeared for him, when he gave nothing to that fucking puzzle piece of my loneliness. I brushed my teeth and my hair and took out the only duffel bag I ever purchased. It could hold my entire life, and it did so this morning. I packed it full and told Duo I would be back shortly for the bag only. I thought he would scream or cry, but instead he wrapped himself up in the sheet and told me to get out in voice that almost let me see past that mask of his. So much pain in that voice, and the only reaction was happiness that I was free to walk out of the room and not make another pointless conversation or mend things with roses.

Sitting here watching that pool of raindrops, I still wish I could have taken away the pain. I wonder about everything Duo and I have shared in the last four years. Perhaps I could have broken that mask and maybe then that puzzle piece could be satisfied. I scrutinize over every last detail trying to figure out how I could have made that hole in me disappear with the person I thought I cared about the most. I sigh and growl at the same time as I rake my fingers through my hair. I put my head between my knees and push at my temples trying to squeeze out any thoughts. Thoughts are what make me destroy any saneness and then I blame it on fate. Nothing can make thoughts in a mind that is crushed to pieces.

I keep wandering. I can never settle. I keep moving, and I hate the facts of this life. I am so sick of never understanding anything other than computer codes and missions. I know I have feelings, otherwise what keeps me alive? Everyone does not understand, and if they do why do they purposely make pain? No one can truly understand someone else. No one can feel the sweetness of life, without the sour.

"Heero, Get up."

I am hearing voices again. Damn my conscience, he's such a sadistic fuck. He tears me down and makes me sew myself together, counting every stitch to mock me.

"Heero, you are going to catch a cold. Get up."

The voice isn't mine. I raise my head, only to rest it on my own shoulder as I let the head rush claim down. When the multiple colored dots stop dancing and things come back into focus I open my eyes to see Trowa. I wonder how he found me or why he's here? I bet Quatre sent him once Duo ran to him. Duo always runs. The lion is not the animal for Duo; it's the cheetah. "Like you care. Go home."

"Quatre didn't send me, he didn't have to. If Duo runs, you hide." I hate that part about Trowa. He knows my mind. He knows what I think seconds after I have thought something. Of the entire Gundam squad he and I were the only two trained since birth to kill. It was not some moral cause or some revenge for us, it was no mere job… it was our life. A cheap life trained to be the deadliest creatures in earth or space; perhaps that's why he was a good friend. That's right he's a friend.

"I want to be alone, I need to figure this out. Even if he didn't send you, you lover awaits." Friend or foe, I didn't want to see people right now. They will just confuse me even more.

Trowa backhands me, and I fall sideways almost hitting the concrete bench before I stopped my impact. "Yuy, don't for one moment think you know my life. Analyze every detail that you want, you will never find answers based on your observations alone. Reality is just not your perspective, its everyone's around you."

I sit up and look at him and his one eye, "Why do you care then? You could be home with Quatra and when I find your reality you could be a friend then."

"Stop making it sound like I am with him."

"You are."

"It's not a relationship. There's no sex and no love. We live together because we can't stand the loneliness."

"That the news bulletin of the year." Perhaps Trowa is right; everything is in our own head until we know the facts. "You should have gotten a dog, they are less of a hassle."

"They can't talk to you about your nightmares or your fears." The silence fell. I looked at Trowa and even though he only looked like the older version of my comrade, he has changed so much. No physical aspects show his new truth loving form, but it radiates off of him. I leap up and begin walking home; I got to get out of here. These people, all of them, I don't know them anymore. Then my conscience laughs at me and states that I don't even know myself.

Before I can make it to the park exit, Trowa is on his motorcycle and rides up to me. I grin when I remember the races we used to have when we would we get bored with the group out partying. We have all grown apart in such a short time; I want to know why. I want answers to all my questions.

"Heero I don't have the answers, but when did I ever?" I have to chuckle at that. Something so barren could only be funny to us. Besides, I have to laugh at the fact he is copying my fucked up mind again. Maybe he thinks exactly what I do, and just waits for the time to respond. I climb on the bike, and we speed away. I realized then I shouldn't have been walking, the fresh air and stinging rain makes me wake up from the confusion I felt.

Riding always does that, whether you're driving or taken for the ride… something about the speed turns down the volume on life's problems. They don't seem to exist when you are feeling the way you are. You body resists the force of the wind and surges with adrenaline, it does more than make your heart pump faster, it makes your worries blur like everything in your perifphal vision. I am so disappointed when we reach the house.

"I'm gonna go get my stuff. After I find a motel, you wanna go race?"

Trowa bursts out laughing. "I don't care how much they all said you have changed, you haven't. Not in the least."

"Oh, I did. I just didn't like being normal." I head up the stairs and fumble with the keys.

"Heero, how could you like it? You can't analyze things away." I opened the door and peeked in. Duo was long gone. Like I said, he could beat a cheetah or my bike. I grab my bag. There is a box next to it with the words 'Never again' written on it. I open the box and see it is the stuff that is technically Duo's, but reminds him of us. I guess if he really wanted me to take it, he would have put it in my bag. I grab my helmet and head towards the garage. I sling my bag around my shoulders so it's turned into a makeshift backpack. I drive to the front and before I put my helmet on I respond to Trowa's early remark, "Analyze everything away, was only one of many drawbacks. It was Halloween every damn day."

Trowa did not even respond. He just put his head in the helmet, waited for me to do the same… then we went to the subdivision's final exit and took off. I forgot how much Trowa turns into a cutthroat racer when he wants to win. Traffic weaving is not even what most people would call it. We called in paint ripping, because if you got to close to the car, at the speeds we raced at you would rip the paint and your leg off if you were not careful when passing cars. Duo hated it when I raced like that, he thought I had a death wish.

If I had one of those I would just kill myself. Its control when you race. The motorcycle is part of you and there is nothing complex about it. Every turn and swivel is done by memory and feel and you can never do anything wrong unless you lose control, which you can never do because this is simplest part that completes you moving 130 mph on the road. Trowa and I race like the bike is part of us, because it's the part we take out confusion on; all to focus and keep control.

I was tempted to continue riding when I saw Trowa start to paint rip over to an exit with a motel accommodations sign by the exit number. I didn't need to be around people, and my bike was doing a great amount of therapy that was better for me than sitting in the rain. If there were a single person who would understand though, it would be Trowa. He has got my mind, but more importantly, he allowed himself so much introspection that he knows our mind much better than I. I exited too, nearly causing an accident. I had control, they didn't.

I slowed down and whipped the corner and stopped in the motel's parking lot.

"I win." Trowa said with a grin on his face.

"Only because I was distracted." Trowa got off his bike. "You know I don't need a shadow."

"No, but you want one." He grabbed my helmet and jerked my bag off my shoulders and told me to go get a room. He was going across the street to get us some food. I would have protested, but there was no use. When Trowa wanted something he got it, either by force, tricks, or making you want whatever you didn't initially. God forbid he ever turn into a used car salesmen.

I got the room and stashed my bag in the closet and waited around. He must have gone a flipping grocery shopping spree. I decided I needed a shower, I was pretty much soaked to the bone; no matter how drenched I was, I didn't feel clean. I like the water hot, Duo did too so the mornings turned into an Olympic sprinting match when it came to who would get to have the first shower. I unplugged the clock radio and plugged it in the bathroom. I usually only liked classical music, but I needed something loud to drain out my thoughts. I cranked up the hot water and in an instant there was fog and my skin tingled while turning to the skin to a shade of pink.

When racing was too much of an effort, scolding showers was the next best self-help program for me. It doesn't clear the thoughts away, but is the only place I can vent everything. On the road you can loose you control over your emotions, but in a shower is when you can get rid of them entirely. The anger dissipates with fanatical scrubbing, the depression drips down the drain with the tears a person might shed, the confusion washes away. When it's over I am not happy and I sure as hell don't have any answers, but I am calm enough not to really care.

When I come out of the bathroom I see Trowa disassembling a package of take out. It smells good at least. I then think about how Duo is a bottomless pit for takeout most nights. As long as he doesn't have to cook it or wait for me to finish cooking he thought it was a race to eat a whole five orders of whatever we got. I suppose that is when it hit me, it really is over. Of course I knew that, but when bad things happen to people time heals all wounds, only when you realize the extent of the wound. The racing, the shower, the food, it was like putting a Band-Aid on a broken arm. I suddenly lost my appetite. After getting dressed I just laid on the bed.

"Yuy food is getting cold."

"Tastes better that way."

"Pain or no pain, you have got to eat. Don't make me play nurse again." With that a flood of memories came back to me. The failed mission, the pain both physical and mental, the retribution no one seemed like giving to me; in an instant the chapter I pad locked opened up. When it rains it pours. I just need to turn off my mind. Thinking about failures with Duo just seems to rip open new fears and old failures. It's on big mess in my head and I am lost trying to find something I can't even describe.

"It gets easier, you know."

I look up at him and wonder how that is possible. Even with the missions, and me being useful instead of detrimental, things have never been easy. It has always been grueling work just to survive at times, and when I did finally make it to a world with no world there was no peace to be granted to me. When I worked to make Duo happy there was no peace granted to my puzzle piece.

I guess he could see my confusion or loss of hope or whatever this sinking feeling is. "Easier in retrospect. Tomorrow will be easier than today, but a new problem will arise. But the day after that the first problem will still get easier to deal with and the new won't be so fresh. Like scrapes and bruises, they keep coming, but they are not so noticeable with time."

"I know. But it doesn't make the initial hurt of the scrape hurts any less. And everything I think is like pouring peroxide on it. It hurts and seems to be doing me no good."

"It is tough, because you are being you. You are at least feeling now, on that bench you're numb. Still trying to analyze. Now that you've given up and just feel…"

"Now I feel like shit."

"Which is why there is food." Everyone has a little bit of Duo in them.

God, what have I done? He was my only source of at least temporary bliss. I think about what life was like before I knew Duo and I could easily see why people thought I had no soul. I had one, and I liked my life being simple; but Duo made that simplicity worth something. He was my hope and my drive to survive, because the emotions I got when I was around him, I wanted to keep. And I was using him, and that was wrong. It's not OK to make people puppets and have the same done back to you. But that new pain, it almost feels like it was worth it for me to at least be around him. What have I done?

"What needed to be done. Even if the immediate pain blinds you past that clarity you once had." I look at Trowa and wonder how he could say such a thing. He was wrong. I was wrong. That pain of using was worth all the other things Duo could offer. "But he didn't offer solace. So is hope and fun acceptable by themselves?" He's fricking worse than my own conscience. It was then, staring at sesame chicken and rice that I realized this is hell.

I chewed away at my food mindlessly. There was no taste, no conversation… nothing. I felt so empty. Before I was numb and then there was pain and now I feel like the invisible soul I had disintegrated while my mind rampaged through its emotions. Like grains of sand in the wind, all my passion and fear and trust was blown away. I knew this would be hard, this part of the day. Trowa had fallen asleep watching a war movie. He tried to make me laugh by saying, "they'll never capture it like it really was. No one knows but you and me." For an instant I could tell he wasn't talking about the movie. He was talking about Duo and Quatre and everyone else in this galaxy.

That's what makes Trowa tangible. He's the only connection I have, my yang. I lay down on the bed and lay my head on the pillow. It's not hard and lumpy like mine at home. I'll have to go back and get more stuff. Duo will probably be out of there for days. He can never face anything. Why can't he see what I see? He's smart enough. I wonder if my lie was just that good. I wonder if I deceived him into thinking I was truly happy. It would explain his degree of rage. All that trust in me, betrayed. He knew it could not be real. He had to have known I really would not change for him. I can only change for me, when I want to for the right reasons. I never wanted the change, how come he could not see the writing on the wall?

_Every time they try to make me change._

_They just wear me down with more chains._

Laying here I know I won't get any sleep. I look at Trowa passed out and envy him. He has such strength. When he is afraid he faces his fears. I could have saved Duo from so much pain had I faced mine. Had I faced a world without him he wouldn't be crying his eyes out or drinking till he dies right now. I would like to say I can never do anything right, but that is another lie. I am so fucking perfect in some fields. Some not even having to do with work. I am a great racer and a loyal friend, but when it comes to bridging the gap from like to love I feel defected. All this insecurity and paranoia and fear and shit makes my conscience rip into burning hole in my soul. And I throw everything into the fire, only to watch it burn and wonder why I can lit matches better than anyone.

I roll onto my side and wrap my arms around my shoulders to keep warm. I should really get up and turn off the air conditioner but Trowa likes it cold. As I wiggle into the covers, I remember I used to not have preferences. My simplicity knew no bounds. The cold would not bother me as long as I did not get hypothermia or frost bite. The hot did not bother me as long as I could still aim a beretta with a sweaty palm. Duo's changes were not all for the bad I suppose. I had the character and soul, but he gave me a personality. I now have preferences and beliefs; nothing is black and white anymore. He is my savior and my demon.

Defiantly not sleeping tonight. I close my eyes and I can feel Duo's body roll on the bed. I can feel the bed shift as he balances himself on an elbow and unties his hair with his hands. I can smell the lavender shampoo fragrance fill the room as his hair lets out the scent from its confines of the braid. His tresses would tickle my shoulder and he would do this bounce flip so that his chin would rest on my shoulder. His left arm would reach up and play with my hair and his right would snake around me to draw patterns on my abs. His lips would suck gently on my ear lobe and then his teeth would nip gently as he would whisper the dirtiest sweet nothings into my ear. For me and me alone would I get his tenderness. I would not be a mindless fuck to loose himself in, or worse a quick way to make a buck. He would roll me onto my back and sit on my hips. He loved feeling my sharp hips against him in any position. He would attack my neck and pin my arms above my head, only he could touch me like this. Duo would work his way down my entire body until he knew I had suffered in waiting long enough. It was his way of feeling wanted. He controls the situation, but he loved that fact that whenever he gave me head, for the entire hour my entire conscience would only want him. I could still feel his hair tickling my thighs while he gave me soft kisses while taking off my underwear. He was so beautiful and no one knew how gorgeous his tender soul could be except me. His other partners only felt his rough aggression, he always watched me with wide-open violet eyes. I could feel them penetrating me as he did, and I knew he loved being loved and having me show the emotion physically.

"Oi Heero, can you get me some water?" I looked over my shoulder, and realized I was not in bed with Duo, I was in a memory. Shit, it was so real. I could have sworn I felt him. "C'mon that Chinese is not settling well I need to wash down my tums." Trowa was here, I had broken up with Duo, and I was in a motel trying to fall asleep. It's a good thing I hadn't, lord only knows what kind of dreams I would have had since I was thinking of such things before I even went to sleep. I got up sluggishly and got him the water from the sink.

"Here you go."

"Thinking of Duo?" How did he know? Then I felt it. Fuck. Oh well. There is no shame with Trowa.

"Memories, nothing more."

" ' Memories is all you have' as the saying goes. There is good with the bad. And there is bad for the good."

"This can't be karma or divine intervention."

"Heero you're right, but there is a cycle."

"Fuck the cycle."

"You're so selfish."

"Yes I am. I wanted to be happy. Didn't I suffer long enough to be happy? Don't I deserve it?"

"Yes, and you felt it. You had moments sexually and emotionally no one else on this earth has ever felt. And for that the cycle turns, and now you will know their cost. Bad leads to good, which leads to bad, which will lead to good. It comes and it will go."

"Father Trowa, not tonight."

I buried myself in the bed. I knew he was shocked that I, Heero Yuy, Reticent king of the world, just made a sarcastic remark. Another trait stolen from Duo. Trowa's stomach calmed down and he passed out again. I tried not to think about Duo. Which was utterly pointless. I would balance my checkbook, but there was a purchase for him about two days ago that would stream memories from such a short amount of time. I was happy then, in that spot of time. But the puzzle was nagging, it always nagged. I tried to think of drawing a picture, clouds. I love gray clouds with sun peeking through so that they look like marshmallows. But the swirls of color would turn to auburn hair. I just buried myself into the mattress more.

I felt Trowa stir. "I can't sleep now."

"You looked dead."

"Keep thinking."

"You too. But what could be driving Trowa insane?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? You make me tell. You make me think. You preach to me."

"Don't be angry. It's selfish worrying." A long moment of silence passed. I wasn't giving him a glare. I knew he was worried about me. But I was confused how could that be selfish. I raised my head out of the pillow and turned to look at him. Even in the dark he saw my confusion. "It's is selfish because I am not worrying about Duo."

"Why would that matter?"

Trowa brushed his hair behind his ear so I could see both eyes. They shined like cat's eyes. "Because…" he reached out and touched my cheek. His hands were so strong but gentle. He had gentlemen's hands as Duo called them. Callused and dry, but the man inside took the effort and care to keep the clean and attempted to soften them. "I am worrying about hurting you. Doing you no good. Thinking you could sort this all out better if I was not here. I am rattling you. And I should care about Duo, he means something to you and even if that is in different ways. But its you that keeps me up." He let out a long sigh. And I just bitterly thought that he cares too much.

I don't know why but I rolled over and kissed him. That's not true I do know why, I needed the pain to be gone. This was it; this was the only way it would go away. Replace the bad with the good. Put the brain on mute and turn up the volume of my senses. Trowa was shocked beyond all belief, but he did not fight. No one would ever fight. Others always thought I was perfect. Later he would see me naked and think the same thoughts Duo did, in the morning he would compliment my body and my techniques. I may suck at loving, but I don't suck at sucking.

Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps I am using again. Perhaps I don't care that I am using again, which in itself is a scary thought. But how can I not care if I am worried enough to write this all down. Trowa was exhausted, and too bruised to move. I was spent, but like I said I knew I could not sleep tonight. He was so unlike Duo. My auburn god loved to tease and titillate and play, like I was food or something. He never just took and gave. He was always gray, never just white or black. Trowa either was too busy moaning to tease me with a show, he was so carnal in embracing his pleasure. I wonder if I look like that to Duo. It was so intoxicating. Riding until he almost hit his head on the headboard, he didn't want to make me happy… he wanted me to feel what he was feeling. I have never had anyone make me happy without having to work in order to achieve the goal. When he returned the favor, he was slow and deliberate. Not animalistic like me and sure as hell not frisky like the sexually charged cheetah Duo turned out to be. There was no animal there in his eyes, and no shallow hunger in the way he tasted in his kiss. There was only a real human soul; it was so blisseral I didn't even feel like I was having physical sex. Looking at him and seeing the moon reflect off of his sheen sweat slicked skin, feeling the chill creep through my own sweat all I could feel was the pleasure. It was like he was muting my world for me, so that I would not have to. How could that be wrong? How could helping be wrong? Didn't Duo try to help?

I just look at Trowa sleeping and I know his help was not as selfish as Duo's. Duo wanted me to change to make his life real, while Trowa wanted nothing. He is the first person in my life to demand nothing but to look reality in the face. That is why Trowa, you are my friend. That is why I wrote this story and left this laptop with this song. You needed to know you the only friend I have. That is why to keep this friendship, I leave, not to run and not to hide. I want you to accuse me of caring too much, like I did to you. I go to find the strength I envy in you within myself. So while you read this when you wake up, do not feel alone. Never feel alone as long as I still draw breath.

_And it feels like  
That you with me or against me  
And it feels like  
That your promises are all mine  
And it feels like  
That to push me is to shove me  
And it feels like  
That the only way is the wrong way._


End file.
